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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906539">Forever Like That</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/complicationstoo/pseuds/complicationstoo'>complicationstoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ice Prince [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sort Of, Weddings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:36:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/complicationstoo/pseuds/complicationstoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want to get married tomorrow?”</p><p>In which Tony doesn't like wedding plan, Vegas is good for eloping, and Steve just wants to put a ring on it.</p><p>Part of a series, but can be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Background James "Bucky" Barnes/Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ice Prince [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forever Like That</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is set a few months after chapter 5 of Diamonds or Twine, but before the epilogue!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony stares at the collection of color swatches and tablecloth patterns in front of him. He’s gone back and forth between nearly identical shades of blue for twenty minutes now, and his eyes have almost lost the ability to tell the difference. At some point, the patterns started to move, and that’s probably a sign that he should take a break and come back to it later, but he swore he’d have the choices made before Steve got back from the gym. Not to Steve, of course, who keeps saying “whatever you want, Tony” and “if you’re happy, I’m happy,” which are quite possibly the least helpful phrases to hear during wedding planning. But to himself, as one more box to check off on the lengthy wedding planning checklist he has going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clasps his hands under his chin and glances back and forth between the colors. One’s slightly lighter than the other, slightly more silvery. It would go better with the centerpieces. But the other is closer to Islanders’ blue, and even if Steve “it’s your call, babe” Rogers claims he doesn’t care, Tony can’t help but think he’d prefer that one anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know how much more time has passed, but his vision is blurry when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little and turns to see Steve standing behind him on the other side of the couch. So much for having the decision before he got back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, baby,” Steve says, smile bright. “What are you up to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flops back into the couch cushions with a sigh. “Tablecloths. A or B?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, which is which?” Steve comes around to sit next to Tony and picks up the two blue swatches. “And is there a difference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, there’s a difference, Steve.” It comes out harsher than intended, making Steve flinch in surprise. Tony scrubs his hand over his face and sighs again, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t say anything - his way of silently inviting Tony to talk about it. He takes a deep breath and says, “Wedding planning sucks. I mean, why do people do this? No, fuck, not the marriage part, don’t look at me like that. I’m talking about the whole stupid ceremony and the stupid party. It’s not like anyone actually likes going to them, anyway, so what’s the point? Why do I have to pick a color scheme because we want to spend our lives together? And why, for the love of God, are there so many fucking shades of blue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods slowly, lips pursed as he contemplates Tony’s words. He didn’t mean to say all of that, wasn’t even aware he was thinking most of it, but there it is, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve gone slightly insane, huh?” Steve finally says, leaning back against the couch to look at Tony. He puts his hand on Tony’s knee and rubs small circles with his thumb. “And it’s at least a little bit my fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but you do kind of suck at this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s probably the wrong thing to say, but I really don’t care what color the tablecloths are, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. That is the wrong thing to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, and the sound eases some of the tension out of Tony’s body. “You didn’t let me finish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then please continue, because that sucked.” He lifts Steve’s arm and fits himself beneath it, head on his shoulder. Steve waits until he’s comfortably situated to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re trying to make everything perfect, and it’s a lot of work, but in five years neither one of us is going to remember which shade of blue the tablecloths were. All I’m going to remember is getting to marry you, and it’s going to be the best day of my life no matter what it looks like. I don’t need it to be perfect. I just need to be married to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony twists to look up at him, and the words are out of his mouth before he’s really even finished thinking them, “Do you want to get married tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve raises his eyebrows, “Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to get married tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not? We can apply for a marriage license today, and according to New York law we can get married in 24 hours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re getting married, Steve. Why don’t you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “I guess I left more up to you than I thought I did.” He pauses for a second, then frowns, “You know, I just realized that I am a terrible person to plan a wedding with. Like, I knew I wasn’t great, but I’m truly terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I realized that a month ago, babe,” Tony laughs. “I really thought for all your love of rom coms that you’d be more into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m not really sure what went wrong there.” Steve leans down to rest his head on top of Tony’s, and Tony feels the press of Steve’s lips against his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or,” Tony sits up and turns around, “we could go to Vegas right now and get married today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks unsure, a hesitant smile slowly forming, “Are you serious about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony repositions himself, knees on either sides of Steve’s thighs, and wraps one arm behind Steve’s neck. He cups Steve’s jaw in his hand, tilting his head so they’re eye to eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marry me today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no hesitation this time as Steve says, “Yes, definitely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses Steve, hard and fast, then reaches for his tablet on the coffee table. “There’s probably an online application.” He quickly finds what he’s looking for and settles back in under Steve’s arm, tilting the screen so they can both see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well isn’t this romantic,” Steve deadpans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll have romantic on the honeymoon,” Tony jokes in return. “Which, by the way, is getting moved up to tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fills out his own information first, then reaches the part with designating a new last name. He grins as he types in “Stark-Rogers,” and Steve’s arm tightens its hold on his waist. He knows that if he looked, Steve would be grinning, too. It feels very right, he decides, to be doing this now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he reaches the box for his social security number and has to admit, “Um, I don’t know mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve laughs. “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it starts with a five,” he offers. Steve laughs even harder, and Tony elbows him in the ribs. “Stop laughing at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How have you survived this long without knowing your own social security number? It’s kind of important, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I’ve been told.” Tony grabs his phone, scrolling until he finds Pepper’s name in his contacts. “For the record, it’s now your job to know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods as the phone rings, “Yeah, it’s part of the job of being my husband. But don’t worry, you’ll be rewarded with a lifetime of really, really good sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a fair trade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper answers at the last second, sounding a little like she ran to the phone. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Pep, what’s my social security number?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, “I keep telling you that you need to learn it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Steve just said the same thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lists the numbers anyway, knowing full well this won’t be the last time she’ll have to, then asks, “What do you even need it for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marriage license. Oh, you should probably get someone to prepare a statement. Keep it short, though. No one needs the details,” he says, distracted as he continues down the form. “Just have it say something confirming that we got married, but nothing about when or where.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, what the hell are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He finishes his part, handing the tablet off to Steve for his section. Then he realizes, “Oh, fuck. Steve and I are going to Vegas to get married. Sorry, should’ve started with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hears her taking a deep breath and can picture the face she’s making. It’s easy to do when you’ve seen it a thousand times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can come if you want,” he offers. “We’re probably leaving in a couple of hours.”    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckles softly, “She’s going to kill you one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, “If she was going to kill me she would have done it by now. Besides, she won’t make her boyfriend’s best friend a widow.” To Pepper he says, “Are you still there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to the wedding that’s in a few months?” she asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turns out I hate tablecloths.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely going to kill you,” Steve mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We decided we don’t want to wait, and we don’t care about having a big wedding,” Tony continues. “So do you want to come or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’ll come,” she answers. There’s a faint voice coming from the background of her end of the call, and he hears her tell the other person, “Steve and Tony are getting married in Vegas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He recognizes the voice when he hears a loud, “What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is Barnes there? Tell him he can come, too, if he wants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a scuffling noise in lieu of a response, and then Bucky’s voice is in his ear. “What the hell are you and Steve doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can answer, Steve takes the phone from his hand and says, “Hey, Buck. We’re leaving for Vegas soon. Do you wanna come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans back against Steve, resting his head on his shoulder. From what he can make out, Bucky’s making several points about being the best man, most of which seem to revolve around the bachelor party that was apparently going to be amazing, while Steve makes the occasional hum of acknowledgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, we’re probably leaving in a couple of hours, so you and Pepper should start packing. I’ll text you the details in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs as Steve ends the call, tossing the phone on the empty cushion next to them. “It’ll be a double homicide. They’ll plan it together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least neither of us will be widows,” Steve says. He finishes the last part of the application and hovers above the submit button. “You sure about this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? You wanna back out?” He’s mostly joking, but a part of him is actually nervous. Steve eliminates that part as he clicks the button without any further hesitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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